


Oberoth's Journal

by AshenhartKrie



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: D&D, Multi, Other, dnd, own content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:40:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29724321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshenhartKrie/pseuds/AshenhartKrie
Summary: A journal from the perspective of my DnD character, Oberoth. Also a way to keep notes for the campaign.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 2





	Oberoth's Journal

21/12 (Evening)

Tonight is Yule, but I am too ill to attend the festivities. Instead, I sit at my balcony and watch as people dance throughout the street, their joyous laughter bubbling up towards me. There are faint flurries of snow, but it is not too cold. My feathers keep me warm; a small blessing. I believe it to be some magical effet for the occasion as it is my understanding that snow does not occur naturally in the Briar Lands.

I have not heard from Herr Drosselmeyer in quite some time, which is quite concerning. Although our correspondence is not frequent, it was regular (until recently). Dear Clara’s birthday was recently, and I am saddened at my inability to travel right now. My illness continues to plague me, alas. Even with my medication I feel weak and weary most days now. 

I find myself scanning the crowds for longer now, trying to spot a familiar face. I worry that I will not recognise it if I see it; I see him in my dreams, but he is blurry, faded. My heart aches at the thought - at least, I hope it is the pain of a forgotten memory, and not something more severe. 

I do not believe my memory will return, despite my hope. I owe much to Herr Drosselmeyer, but even he cannot cure this affliction. Only time will tell.

_ The rest of the page is covered in sketches of the Yule parade and the people celebrating.  _

22/12 (Morning)

I was plagued by strange dreams last night; they haunt me this morning still. I walked through an endless hall of mirrors, and each one reflected a different scene entirely. They swept past me, moving too fast for me to get a proper read. I felt like I needed to get somewhere - to be somewhere, but no matter how fast I walked I could not reach it. 

Ahead of me there was a person, someone in a harlequin outfit. They turned, smiled, and kept walking urging me to follow. Sounds accosted me, the beating of wings, chittering, the scampering of feet, and my vision began to blur as darkness closed in.

All that I could see was a glowing green vial attached to this person ahead of me, my guide perhaps. It shone like a beacon, and somehow… it was familiar to me. I ran down the stairs (a sensation that waking me could never hope to replicate safely!), the air turning sickly sweet as a… peppermint-like substance coated them. The images in the mirror began to grow clearer.

_ There are sketches of what Oberoth saw in the mirrors. A skeleton with jewels for eyes. A hirsute man with a crown upon his head. A large family with multiple crowns. Fabrics. A fleshy looking individual. Keys, and a door.  _

I do not know what it means, but the dream is not dissimilar to those I have had in the past. There is something about it… a message, perhaps. Or a warning. 

There are still remnants from last night’s festivities, carts and flowers and wreaths. They are quite beautiful. I feel better this morning than I have in a long while… Perhaps this afternoon I shall try to dance again. 

_ A sketch of a fantastic wreath fills the middle of the page. There are all manner of flowers and sweets.  _

22/12 (Afternoon)

I took a walk after breakfast, just down the street to one of the cafes that I enjoy. While there I purchased some pastries (custard filled and covered in powdered sugar) and encountered two fashion designers for Au Camelia. That is a glove label, I believe. I have forgotten their names already, although they gave me a business card with an address, and I left with an invitation to join their audition. It is my understanding that they are hosting a fashion show of some kind for Princess Aurora’s birthday on the spring equinox. 

_ There are doodles of pastries in the margins, and a portrait of a featureless elven man takes up the lower half of the page. _

I am writing this now on my balcony, as I sip a tea. For the first time in my very limited memory I was able to complete the first portion of this dance routine. I do not remember it, nor where I performed, but surely I must have for in my mind’s eye I can see the stage, the curtains, the silks, and the spotlight. There is only one face in the audience that I see, only one person that I truly perform for. But he is gone, a blur. 

I sit here every day, watching, and waiting hoping and praying that I will meet him again - that he will remember me, and I am left wanting. I cannot remember who I was before this, before Herr Drosselmeyer found me. This is not like the others, who recall most mundane things. This is different, it feels like -  _ The sentence is unfinished, letters blurred as if the journal was snapped shut in a hurry.  _

22/12 (Late afternoon)

_ The writing is messy and uneven, as if written in a hurry. _

I ran into Clara - dear Clara! She was dressed in nothing more than a nightgown, and missing a shoe. Not only that - they had the princess with them! Of all the places for her majesty to be, I did not expect to find her disguised as a sleazy looking character in a carriage with strangers.

I do not know these people who ‘protect’ these two girls, but I am most unimpressed. They say the Lilac Guards have disappeared, as has Herr Drosselmeyer. I am… concerned. He has disappeared before, but not like this. I have been given no notice, no warning. No communication from himself nor Mr Bluebird. It is highly distressing. The last correspondence I had with either of them was my letter informing them that I was indisposed. I do not recall receiving a reply.

Apparently something happened at the party I was meant to attend; it seems that my missing it has caused this group some cause for alarm. They are incredibly suspicious of me, though Clara’s insistence that I am a friend seems to have assuaged their fears somewhat. 

The following is a list of these individuals and their names, for my own recollection.

  * **Kirruk:** the little kobold. He interprets for Dr Beauregard, who I gather is mute.
  * **Dr Beauregard:** the orc gentleman. A nobleman from the Briar Lands? I do not recall his surname. 
  * **Kettle:** the tiefling. The most suspicious of the lot.
  * **Sir Feather Wiggins:** the… robot? He has a swan emblem - most curious. I wonder if he is one of Herr Drosselmeyer’s creations. 



We are presently at the Royal Palace of all places! Sir Feather Wiggins filled me in on most of the details, though I am… still quite confused. My present understanding is that Herr Drosselmeyer tasked them with protecting Clara and accompanying her to the Candy Factory (I am uncertain what this place is, or where) before he disappeared. Sir Feather Wiggins believes that Herr Drosselmeyer became involved in a fight with a large… owl man. I see now why they were initially suspicious of my appearance. 

It seems that while the group is not aware of Herr Drosselmeyer’s true nature, they may be catching on. I do not think that their individual relationships with Herr Drosselmeyer are quite the same as mine, although there may be some sort of agreement in place. 

I do not know what Herr Drosselmeyer’s motivations are for sending Clara into danger; it has something to do with a nutcracker that she has. And a memory orb…  _ Memory orb is underlined multiple times. _

The King and Queen have agreed to transport us to any location we require. Something strange is afoot, and I believe I shall join this motley parade. I fear I may not be of much use to these fellows, but the lure of the memory orb is too much to give up. I only hope it can do what I think it might.


End file.
